Anchored Souls
by Corndog Conspiracy
Summary: Death is boring and forgetful; it doesn't remember everything, just the strongest of emotions. It doesn't let you rest as peacefully as you may think. As forgetful as death is, sometimes it forces you to remember.
1. Bandages

Boredom is a feeling the dead cannot escape.

Unlike the living they don't have mindless tasks they can perform, nor can they sleep to waste time. The dead have no where to be and nothing to do, so starts the thrill of interacting with the living.

She was tired of that today, though. The land she inhabited was so sparsely populated that it was nearly impossible to find some one who wasn't dead or too stupid without traveling very far West. That large town, nestled at the center of everything, acting as the entire land's clock and compass. No, she was far too bored of them today. This day, she needed something brand new, something no one she knew of had attempted before.

Ikana Canyon wasn't exactly a spectacle; tall walls of craggy rock, wrecked and ruined structures, a river cutting right through the middle of it. The Stone Tower was the only truly eye catching piece of architecture and only the stupidest of creatures ventured in there, usually to their doom. She'd seen it once before. No, something even more interesting then that would need to happen this day and as she hovered near the edge of the canyon, the strong river below acting as a guide, she knew exactly what that thing was.

The castle's walls, though once pristine, were now yellowed and ugly. The turquoise markings that had once been attractive, she was sure, now only served to mar its appearance even more. One of the pillars at the front of the wall had toppled over on its side, leaving its base in a crumpled heap and even the crimson birds emblazoned on the doors no longer drew the fearful attention they once inspired.

It was all looking like a joke, really.

Pulling her grey, tattered hood up, Seahli moved towards the front gates with a remarkable fluidity. On the far left side of the wall she took note of a section where the painted tiles had crumpled off and there was a very obvious, person-sized hole leading right inside. She wouldn't be needing that, her way was far more interesting.

The lantern floating closely to her hand jingled as the chain clinked with her movement. A thin black arm peaked from beneath the purple robes and she pressed it against the aging structure, lightly brushing the stone before her hand was engulfed by it. Her arm followed, then her head and the rest of her. Getting the lantern to follow her was a little tricky, but by swinging her arm over the very top of the double gates, entry was made.

To her knowledge, only Guays had ever gone past the gate and anyone or anything that was already within the castle walls had been there from long ago. Non sentient as the birds were, she wasn't entirely sure they even counted.

Now that she was inside, Seahli lowered herself closer to the ground. If she had legs she might have appreciated the cool grass springing up alongside the castle itself, but alas, it was not to be. The walls protecting the true castle's structure seemed to be much taller on either side then in the front, stretching high enough to seemingly be touched by clouds--she assumed this was a trick of the light and dust. Stone Tower was easily visible over the left wall and it was as a giant compared to the miniscule castle.

The same wear and tear on the outer wall was present on the interior; there seemed to have been a small moat dug through the stone coming from a small, now dried up, reservoir at the far right which lead at the left into the well. Weeds had begun peeking through the stone long ago, trying to reclaim the land that once belonged solely to it. A colorful line of stone came directly from the gate leading towards the castle's entrance--a small distance, but a large stretch of stone nonetheless. Its colors swirled every which way, gold, green and red, all looking very tribal.

Similar to out front, two pillars stood in front of the castle, drawing more attention to the gaping entrance that was so dark it would rival the color of her skin, if it could be called that. The castle proper seemed to only have two stories, three at the most but she was unsure if there was a way to actually ascend so high or if it was just to make the castle look bigger as an intimidation tactic.

As she drew closer, mostly letting the wind carry her floating form, familiar sounds leaked from the entrance. The dead and living alike could name this sound immediately and it was one the living feared most and it meant almost certain injury or death--there were ReDeads inside. That was probably the main factor in why no living being on record had entered the castle and returned. Some of the others bet on it when some one was stupid enough to try and either they ran out screaming moment later or simply never came out again.

Interest piqued, Seahli pushed herself along the air, purple cloak trailing behind her almost like a wispy tail.

The interior was so dimly lit she had to intensify the fire in her lantern, holding it out in front of her. Four emaciated looking beings, stripped naked of all but a mask, stood at the corner's of the rooms center, each next to a support beam. ReDead were notoriously patient, some not even moving for months due to a lack of motivation. They barely acknowledged her presence, just giving their usual unearthly groans in response to her entry, though one shifted its foot as she moved past. Each was totally disinterested with the other, and she with them.

Her sights were on something far more special, something no one had dared to see in decades, possibly centuries.

The throne room.

Past the four dim beings was an even darker room with a circular door that looked almost shoved into place. Once again, she wouldn't be needing that, and passed through as simply as she had the front gates, stopping once half of her body was inside. It was a big disappointment, to be completely truthful. The room was large and rectangular and at the far end sat the infamous throne atop three stone steps. While the structure was fitting the coloration seemed to belie the room's true nature.

In truth, it looked as though a Takkuri had eaten paint and vomited all over everything.

All across the walls were emblems of the same birds as on the front gates, she couldn't tell just what they were, accompanied by the occasional skeleton, hunkered down on its knees and its hands up as if it were praying. On the right wall were two large windows with the smallest remnants of burnt cloth dangling from their tops, blowing gently in the small breeze.

_Is it really this empty…?_

How boring.

Passing through completely she took note of some marks on the floor, as though something metallic had been dragged across it and sparked. Similar markings seemed to dot it here and there, all the way up towards the throne itself, though they were quite spaced out. Below one of the windows, she noted with slight amusement, was an old arrow that seemed burned until the middle, the head and back feathers still intact.

It seemed there was a battle of some kind. She wondered if it had been the King, defending his strong hold until his last breath, or perhaps some petty raiders that had managed to get past the ReDeads some how and fought for a treasure either long gone or nonexistent. There were many possible explanations and she didn't feel like naming them all off.

After a few more minutes of floating along the wall and picking out strange shapes within the intricate designs, Seahli was ready to leave. There truly was nothing else here, just the memories of some battle from long ago that most likely lost its importance as soon as it had begun. She turned, a purple stream of hair covering one of her glowing eyes, but she stopped and looked back towards the throne. Something she hadn't noticed before was peeking out right from behind it. Though hard to tell from her distance it looked off-white and appeared to be fabric of some sort.

Curiosity got the better of her and she floated over.

The throne wasn't quite propped up against the wall, through it was close to it. There seemed to be just enough room between it and the wall to fit exactly what had caught her eye.

Dark leather straps nailed to the back of the chair, several of them looping across a vaguely humanoid shaped lump that was wrapped in bandages so profusely that it was barely recognizable. The first thought that crept to mind was Gibdo, cousin to the ReDead and equally, if not moreso, frightening then their brethren. The only difference between the two was just this, bandages that hid the corpse.

Perhaps her inquiring mind was getting to be a little too intrusive but manners don't account for much to anyone but the living. Carefully she brought her free hand close, the other holding the lantern up. She trailed her fingers across the leather; it didn't feel quite like the usual cow hide you would find, it was a bit tauter and hadn't been dyed but discolored naturally from years of dormancy, just like the rest of the castle. The bandages seemed to be filthy, as well, though more from settling dust that worked its way in on the wind.

Seahli could only guess how long this thing had been here, stuck to an abandoned throne with only four ReDeads for company in the next room. Letting her hand drop roughly to her side, one of her fingers tugged a bit too hard on one of the straps. It didn't seem as though they would have needed much help, that was the last bit of strength they had and she wiped it out with a single swipe. One by one the straps snapped away, falling apart and letting the human shaped clump of bandages topple forward, nearly knocking into her. Its head, if it were upright, knocked sickeningly against the back wall before it slid down to its side and began rolling down the small stairs leaving a trail of ratty bandages behind it.

With most of the bandages wrapping its body unraveled it still looked like a Gibdo to her. An emaciated one, possibly with the thinnest layering of bandages strapped to its body she had seen yet, but that's all it could have been. If that was the case, however, what was it doing strapped to the King's chair? That hardly seemed the place for one, what would they have been doing with it?

She couldn't contain herself.

Had something interesting actually just happened?

Could it be possible?

_What's this?_

Upon closer inspection there seemed to be hair poking out from some of the bandages. The coloring of the hair was nearly the same as the filthy wrappings, causing it to blend in at first. This was one bit of evidence against it _not_ being a Gibdo. …Interesting. Intent on finding out more about this strange corpse, as it were, Seahli settled herself on the stone floor and nudged the body onto its side. A few more of the bandages fell away with the movement, revealing a rather dark skinned eye, close.

If it weren't for the fact it still had lashes and, she assumed, the eyeball inside of it she would have written off the hair as a coincidence and named it a Gibdo just so no more questions arose.

That was too easy.

Her black thumb trailed gently over the skin that still felt soft, though cold as death. Along the bandages, through some hair, finally stopping atop the eyelid. The pause barely lasted a second before she gently pressed upwards, pulling the lid up and revealing, just as she had thought, the eye. A constricted pupil, as small as if its owner had been staring at the sun for too many hours, dotted the center of the brightest green iris she had ever seen. The coloring of it seemed almost sickly, like it could be dangerous to touch, like a poison.

Still, it was a little disappointing that after all of the excitement she had built it, this thing was dead after all. Sighing, she removed her thumb and adjusted her hood, sweeping away some of her purple hair before floating upwards.

Her stop was abrupt.

In the time she had taken to collect herself and begin departing, the eye had not closed itself. In fact, the eye was now staring directly at her, half lidded and looking tired, beaten. The outline of a jaw became difficult to ignore as it moved, though all she could hear was raspy air muffled by the bandages. It came in, clear as day, through her mind, though.

…_What are you?_


	2. Amnesia

What was once an abysmal nothingness was suddenly rocked to its core and sparked awake with a prominent thud.

A sharp pain sparked in a place he couldn't quite find the name for--he knew it was high up. Dizziness quickly set in as darkness was sliced away, sharp light spiking through to his only open eye. There was no control over his body, he couldn't close the eye to protect it and the pupil contracting so tightly was almost felt. Sandy colored pieces of hair flew in front of his face for just a moment until finally his body came to a halt.

Something was in front of him, out of focus amidst the strange colored area, but there were no words he could put to it. Nothing was making sense and it was all coming at him so fast, everything assaulting his senses while he was helpless, lying on the hard ground, frozen stiff.

Why?

Why couldn't he move at all?

It was now that "ironic timing" kicked in and his seized up body began to loosen. Not much, little by little, he slowly found himself twitching, inching. It started from the head, muscles relaxing. The time elapsed was probably much shorter then the eternity it felt like to him. After what could have been considered days, when in reality was a mere few seconds, he found himself able and urged to move that uncovered eye.

What was before him, hovering overhead, seemed to be as visibly surprised by him as he was of it. Black skin, long arms but no legs, a face with no features save for a single glowing, golden eye while the other was covered by purple strands pushed forward thanks to a grey hood atop its head. Though confusion was abundant, it looked decidedly female.

Both of them stared until he couldn't bear it anymore.

With newfound control he coaxed air into his mouth--he could feel it covered by something taut, wrapped around, but he couldn't be sure of what it was--bringing a strange sensation inside his throat; it was a mix of tickles, pain and general irritation, but he worked past it and managed a weak mutter.

"What are you?"

This possibly female thing seemed taken aback by the question, leaning her head back and staring him up and down… at least he assumed that was what she was doing, the fact she had no pupils made judging such things fairly difficult.

With no mouth, he wondered how she would be able to retort, never minding the fact that she could very well have been unable to understand him.

These questions were stomped out as he felt something brush against his mind, something invisible. It was like a cold rush of wind squeezing its way into his skull.

_I'm a poe. …What are you? And why are you here?_

It was her response.

Gender now confirmed, he had another problem on his hands. Mysterious as she and this place was, he couldn't answer her first question. He, quite simply, didn't have that information. The more he thought about it the more he felt like things were being blocked. Why wouldn't he know what he was? Her second question brought out similar results.

Again, he opened his mouth. It felt like his throat was getting air directly into it from the outside, not just from sucking it in voluntarily. The sensation was strange, as if his throat were wide open.

"…Poe?"

First he tried repeating; it seemed speaking was a bit difficult and he wanted to take it slowly.

"I… I don't know," that was the only response he could think of which would answer both questions simultaneously.

His response either seemed to anger or amuse her with the way her eye suddenly narrowed. Once again he felt the cold brush, though the second time was less surprising then the first despite how abrupt it was.

_Spirit, ghost, whatever you want to call my kind._

A haunting laugh echoed inside his head.

_I figured you to be a Gibdo, but… _her words trailed off as she continued staring, eventually bringing a hand to what might be called her chin, _Is it necessary for you to be wrapped up like this?_

Without waiting for him to respond she moved closer, hand finding its way to the tight covering over his mouth, chilled fingers toying with whatever they were. There was no weight to her hand, it felt as though air was moving against his face instead of what he was certain was a physical body. At least that was what his eye was telling him.

Her new proximity was making it difficult to focus. Being careful not to knock her hand away, if that were possible, he attempted to wiggle himself into a better position--this was far more difficult then one would assume as more of what was covering his mouth was apparently wrapped all around the rest of his body.

After a couple more tries he was able to roll himself off of his shoulder and onto his back.

"A Gibdo?"

The word was foreign, just like 'poe'.

Was it necessary? Maybe. He couldn't say for sure seeing as he couldn't even tell what he was. Nothing was there, it was all blank before that knock to what he now knew had been his head.

"I don't know," the same answer came again.

Speaking was becoming easier each time he attempted it but those mixed sensations weren't calming down in the least, he was just becoming accustomed to them.

"What is this place?"

Now that he was on his back and the light wasn't spiking him right in the eye, he was noticing a lot of intricate designs along the walls in a variety of colors. While appreciating them, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread from it all.

The spirit's fingers paused in their tugging and exploration, her voice becoming quiet instead of the cautious, sturdiness it held before.

_You've been sleeping for a long time… haven't you?_ she looped a finger beneath around one of the wrappings and pulled it back, the fabric stretching easily until it was torn.

Though the closeness of such a being to him was unnerving, he allowed her to do as she pleased with the wrappings. They hindered him as much as they seemed to hinder her, so it was actually a service she was doing, one he wasn't keen on giving up.

"Sleeping… Maybe. I still feel tired," and sluggish but he couldn't tell if that was actually his body or the wraps. "So you're a ghost?" That response had been posed what seemed like an eternity ago but he was only getting to it now. Strange a question as it was, it somehow made sense but the pause in her answer wasn't very reassuring. He glanced up to make sure the question hadn't been offensive and, for a moment, he thought it had; the poe's visible eye narrowed again, contorted in a way that denoted sadness.

It seemed she caught this lapse in appearance and altered her expression faster then he could open his mouth to ask.

_You could say that. I'm not living, in simplest terms,_ her hand had gone back to work on the wrappings, so loose now that one had been snapped that she was able to pull them all down past his neck to his collar bones.

For a moment she seemed lost in thought, it looked like it was taking all of her energy for her to not move her hand along his skin, explore the new dark, uncovered flesh. Something was intriguing about his appearance, he could feel it.

"…Am I dead?"

His side was becoming sore. With the looseness of the rest of the bandages following since the first, he was able to move his arms far enough apart and separate them from the wraps. Moving was as alien as speaking the first time, though he was relieved it didn't give off the same pained sensation. No, the feeling that came from moving an arm up in front of his face was more like tiny pinpricks, tingles, through every pore.

A fist was made to test his control; little to none. She seemed amused by how clumsy he was.

_You look like you could be… _that laugh of hers chimed up again, echoing though it was not physically uttered, _All of these scars… and considering how old these bandages look to be, I would think so._

A stream of air blew from his nostrils in frustration, "But I don't remember being alive."

Was it really possible?

There seemed to be just enough knowledge in there that couldn't have come from nothing--his ability to speak, for one--but if that was the case, why were there no memories among them?

It was then he came to the realization that, in all the time since she had torn and rearranged the bandages, she had moved away and he was still flat on his back. That wasn't exactly the most becoming position to stay in for as long as he had. Taking what little strength and control there was in his covered body, the so called corpse rolled himself to the side, using the stairs as a hoist. One by one, he climbed until his numb hands reached the arm of the very throne he had been tied to.

Slowly, dragging his feet up behind him, he made it to a shaky stand and felt her cold presence near him, rising up as he did.

_Do you remember anything?_

"Nothing before now," he shook his head to emphasize.

_Not even your name?_

The corpse paused a moment to offer this notion some thought: Would he have remembered his name right after being asked that or would he be doing as he was now? After wording it in such a way, the answer was obvious.

He just shook his head again before shuffling forward a few steps and peeking behind the throne, "I was here…?" Nails were stuck to the back with dark pieces of cloth, or some other material, hanging off. On the floor just below it began a filthy trail of wrappings he traced all the way to where he had been laying moments ago.

_Yes, latched right onto the back, there. _

He could only assume the leather straps had been holding him in place for however long it had been.

"And this place… Where is it?" vaguely, he recalled asking this before but she just responded with condolence and pity in her voice rather then an actual answer.

_Where?_ she cast a look around as though this were obvious, _This is Ikana, specifically Ikana Castle._

The name didn't ring any bells but now that he was on his feet that sense of dread he had earlier was growing stronger. Was it because of her, this place, or perhaps his body telling him not to do exactly what he was doing?

"How long could I have been here?"

_No way to know for sure. No one's set foot in this castle for a very long time…_ when she said this--or would it rather be a thought?--she turned to start at one of the windows as if she were unsure of something.

Bringing a hand up to his head to scratch, watching the spirit's reaction to her own words, he felt more wrappings around the top and began undoing them, letting out dull, messy blond hair. The color of his skin and hair contrasted greatly but what seemed to be the part that called the most attention was the bright green eyes, they almost looked venomous--he caught the poe staring a moment before she turned her back to him.

"Could you… show me outside?" he stepped back from the freshly dropped bandages, still using the arm of the throne to keep himself upright.

Nothing in here was helping, just making that feeling get worse and he wanted to get out of there even if he couldn't rationalize just why. Maybe something out there would bring some memories back. That was probably all he needed, a kick start.

Once again, the question appeared to surprise her and she whirled around to face him, stuttering slightly in response, _Ah… yes, I can show you. _Almost like a cue, she tugged her hood down to further cover her face. _I hope you can handle it, having been inside for so long. …Maybe all of your nerves are still intact._

He wasn't sure if the last statement was rhetorical or not so he kept his response to a single shrug and followed her back towards the circular entrance.

She was patient with him, his stumbling walk and having to use the nearest thing to lean against just to stand, slowing down if he tripped or stopped and looking back over her shoulder when she was unsure. The ReDeads in the next room hadn't moved since her entrance and they took no notice of the new presence just as they took no notice of her. Passing by, he was curious, and gave one of them an experimental nudge but all it did was recoil and groan before settling back into place. She explained what they were as they moved towards the badly lit entrance, no light pouring in like it had in the throne room windows despite it still being the middle of the day.

Walking through it sent a rush of heat and blinding glow to him all at once, nearly causing a collapse.

"Ah… bright," in defense, he brought a hand up to his eyes and covered them as fully as he could, back to the utter blackness he had seen just minutes before. It felt so much longer then that, everything felt as though it took an eternity.

_Yes, it is bright. The sun is what we like to call it._

The comment could almost have been construed as a personal affront but all he could do was smirk while holding his eyes shut, probably looking a fool, "I remember that…" Peeking between his fingers he saw a change in her eye, she seemed delighted by his response.

_That's good, at least I don't have to teach you basics, _the laugh that carried from her to his mind was high pitched and spooky, ebbing his smile a little, _I hope you remember your name, soon. _


End file.
